Big Boy

My little man is seeming awfully grown up lately. He's suddenly grown this sense of maturity -- we might go all day without tears, for example. He's not arguing when it's time to leave the house in the morning anymore. Things like that.

Don't get me wrong, he still has those moments when he tenses every muscle in his body, leaning so far forward that a breeze could topple him, fists clenched, eyebrows drawn down, with a laser beam of intensity shooting out his forehead, insisting, "I TOLD YOU, I WAAAAANT CHO-CLATE MILK!!!" But they are, right now, fewer and farther in between. Knock on wood.

He's become helpful at daycare, asks to put away laundry (I think it's because it means we play upstairs and we don't really do that often), and isn't squishing Violet any more. For the record, he is three and three months and one day today. Life just seems peaceful in his world right now.

Sure, he claims every night, "But I don't like to go to sleep!" and he protests both getting into and out of the bathtub, but for the largest part of the day, he's pleasant and cheerful. It's nice!

I just came from home -- no daycare today, so daddy is home with the babes -- and just before I left, we were all in a pile on the floor, snuggling and teasing each other, playing "Let's all kiss someone!" and just feeling each other breathe.

I kiss Violet, who kisses Daddy, who kisses Milo, who kisses me.

What could be better?